While Archie and Donnie head over to the pizza place in the food court, Trina makes her way to the shop specializing in salad. She doesn’t know how long she’ll have this body, but she should try to take care of it—just in case she is this way forever. Of course to get to the salad shop she has to wade through crowds of people. Like in Phineas Slate’s, male hands take every opportunity to grope her. She’s ready to scream with frustration by the time she finally gets in line.
Since it’s a salad shop most of the line is women. She doesn’t recognize the woman in front of her until the woman turns around. Trina’s fists instantly curl with rage. “You! What are you doing here? Where’s Miranda?”
“Your aunt is probably back at her shop,” Betty says.
“It’s not her shop. It belongs to her and her husband.”
“That’s not how she tells it.”
“Oh really? How does she tell it?”
“Can we drop it? I really don’t want to talk about it,” Betty growls. “I just want to get a salad and go buy some comics.”
“Why didn’t you buy them from Miranda? She’d probably give them to you.”
Betty glares at her a moment and then sighs. “We had an argument. I sorta said something I shouldn’t have.”
“Really? Like what?”
“If you really have to know, your aunt tried to kiss me and I…I kind of told her she was too old for me.”
Trina burst out laughing loud enough that people around her give her strange looks. Betty’s face turns bright red and her lower lip trembles. “That is classic,” Trina says. “She goes to all that trouble to kiss you and then you totally diss her. Awesome.”
“That’s not how it happened,” Betty whines. “You know what: the hell with you. You and your aunt and your uncle and your whole messed-up family.”
Betty turns on her heel to stomp away. Trina shakes her head and then slips forward in line. She ought to be mad at Miranda for kissing someone else—a girl even!—but given the way it backfired, she figures it serves Miranda right. The more worrisome question is how long Miranda had been into kissing girls. She hadn’t ever mentioned it, but that could explain a few things, especially her coldness lately.
She finally gets her salad—chicken breast with no dressing or cheese—and braves the crowd again to find Archie and Donnie. When she makes eye contact with them, Donnie nudges Archie in the ribs. His face goes almost as red as Betty’s had. He really is intimidated by a gorgeous woman, not that she can blame him.
“Hi boys. Sorry it took so long. I ran into a friend.”
“It’s OK,” Donnie says through a mouthful of pizza. “Archie was talking about what a great kisser you are.”
“Oh really? What’d you tell him, Archie?”
“Nothing much. Just it was really, really great.”
“Thanks! I’ll let you in on a secret: these lips and boobies and everything aren’t real. They’re magic.” They stare at her for a moment, until she starts to crack up. “I’m teasing you. Relax.”
While Donnie gorges on his pizza, Archie barely nibbles him. That’s a good idea since he’d probably throw his up. She shifts closer to him, one hand holding her fork while the other gently massages Archie’s thigh. His eyes bulge and his face gets even redder.
She’s not surprised that when she slides her hand a little to the right she feels a bulge in his pants. It’s not as disappointing as she figured it would be. When she was Trevor she had ragged on Archie and Donnie’s love lives; he probably wouldn’t have if he knew Archie was hung better than him.
Donnie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he continues to gobble down pizza. Maybe she ought to take them both home. A threesome with her two best friends? It would be kind of weird and yet probably pretty awesome too.
As she considers this, she glances at Donnie and all the grease and pizza sauce staining his pudgy cheeks. Yuck. She wouldn’t want to be in bed with that. Archie on the other hand is a lot more fastidious. Is he like that in bed too?
“You going to eat that?” Donnie asks, gesturing to a slice of pizza on Archie’s tray.
“Go ahead,” Archie mumbles.
What a pig, Trina thinks as she watches Donnie snatch the pizza with his chubby fingers. She’s ninety-nine percent sure Donnie is still a virgin—and probably will die as one. She leans close to whisper into Archie’s ear, “Let’s ditch Fatso and go back to your place.”
“Um…OK,” he says. She giggles at his obvious nervousness.
She turns to Donnie. “Archie is going to be a gentleman and walk me to the little girl’s room.”
“Knock yourself out,” Donnie says.
Trina takes Archie’s hand to help him up. He tosses his uneaten pizza on his tray. Like a proper gentleman he takes her leftover salad as well to toss into the trash, since they both know Donnie won’t eat it.
Trina leans against him in part to warn off any other men who might think about groping her. The crowd is still thick enough that they can disappear through the front doors before Donnie can realize they’re gone. Trina starts to snicker with triumph. “That’ll show that pig.”
“Donnie’s a good guy.”
“He’s gross. I’m definitely not a chubby chaser.” She quickly pats him between the legs. “Except that kind of chubby.”
“You seem kinda…different since this morning,” Archie says. “I mean, you didn’t even want to kiss me a few hours ago.”
“I was wrong. And I guess a little scared when Aunt Miranda saw us. She can be kind of strict, you know?”
“Miranda is a little uptight. She’s always yelling at Trevor about stuff. I don’t know how he puts up with it.”
“I don’t think he is anymore. I hear they’re on the rocks.”
“Really?”
“I know. They seemed like such a great couple, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Let’s stop worrying about them. Let’s worry more about us.” She leans closer to him as they walk through the parking lot, to Archie’s battered Corolla. He opens the door on the passenger’s side; from how far back the seat is, she figures Donnie must have been sitting there. “Thank you. You’re such a gentleman.”
“Uh-huh.”
He gets in the other side. His hand is trembling so badly that he needs a couple of tries to get the key into the ignition. The engine also needs a couple of tries as if it’s attuned to its owner. It finally catches with a roar. Trina grabs her seatbelt to drape over her body; it’s a tight fight over her chest, but if it could fit Donnie’s gut it would have to be able to fit her boobies.
There’s still no sign of Donnie as Archie backs out of the spot. Good. He was such a third wheel. When they had both been guys she could tolerate him, but now she just finds him as vile as Dick Tremblay.
With the seatbelt on she can’t snuggle close to Archie, but she does reach over to put a hand on his thigh. “I’m so glad you agreed,” she says. “I was worried you might not want to.”